He gave a rakish laugh. ‘No, only you.’ He nodded towards the picture. ‘A Peter De Wint I believe. A River Scene at Sunset. A relatively new painting of his, are you an admirer of his work Felicity?’
She looked back at the painting, ‘I do not know, this painting is rather dark for my taste but it has a certain quality about it. I like the way the trees are reflected in the water and the way the fading sunlight is reflected through the trees.’ She sighed. ‘It reminds me of murky evenings at home when I am returning home along the banks of the river Swale after a long ride on Artemis.’
‘Do you miss home?’ he asked sincerely. ‘Oh yes,’ she sighed. ‘I miss the freedom of the country and the open spaces and the freedom to do more or less as I please. No one is watching my every move. I can be myself and I do not have to ride sidesaddle despite Richards’s admonitions. It is stifling here in London. I like the theatre and the balls of course, but really I can have those at home in Richmond. We have the most wonderful little Georgian theatre there, it is so quaint and they do present some good plays and musicals.’
‘Why do you come to London then?’ he asked. She looked at him wearily. ‘Need you ask? Mother of course. She will not be content until I am married off with brood of children at my skirts.’
‘And is that not what you want?’ he replied.
‘Oh I do not mind but I am not quite prepared to marry just anyone. Mother is exasperated as I have had plenty of offers but none that I would seriously contemplate and Richard scares off all of the bounty hunters. He can be a bore, but sometimes he does come in rather useful.’
Alex smiled, he was quite sure that she must have had any number of offers and well aware that Richard would never be very far away. Her beauty was astonishing and her nature was trusting and generous but he could imagine that her intrepid personality would put off the more staid members of the male fraternity. He realised however, that here in London she was careful not to overstep the boundaries. She certainly knew how to behave in public and applied herself when it was necessary, but it was obviously difficult for her to conform and like him she did not hesitate to flaunt convention if the situation called for it. He turned back to the picture. ‘We have a river just like that running through Stansfield Park in Yorkshire, the river Nidd you would like it.’
She turned to him, her violet blue eyes bright with pleasure. ‘Oh have you. How lucky you are, it must be lovely.’
‘I should invite you and your family over sometime and you can see for yourself.’
She gave him a wistful smile, ‘I do not think Richard would agree. I do not think he approves of you.’
‘You are wrong,’ he replied. ‘Richard and I understand each other well enough. I think you would find that with a bit of persuasion he would not be adverse.’
‘We shall see,’ she whispered softly.
The music for the second waltz of the evening was starting. Alex bowed to Felicity, ‘Our dance I believe.’ She left off her study of the painting and took his outstretched hand and he led her back onto the dance floor.
Chapter 9
A Day out and a Disaster
The week following the ball Richard accompanied Felicity and his mother to the British Museum. The papers were full of news about the Museums new exhibition. The British Government had newly purchased the Parthenon Marbles from Thomas Bruce, the seventh Earl of Elgin, and placed them in the British Museum. The whole of London was talking about the new exhibition that was said to consist of classical Greek marble sculptures and inscriptions. There had been a lot of controversy over the acquisition and Lord Elgin had been accused of ‘the worst sort of vandalism’ but had been subsequently exonerated by the British Government.
Lord Byron had been very vociferous about the marbles, calling them ‘misshapen monuments’ and wasted no time about criticising Lord Elgin for removing them from Greece. Being no lover of Byron or his opinions, the Countess and Felicity wanted to see the marbles for themselves before the season was over.
Richard called for the Lealholme carriage to convey them to the British Museum. It was raining again. It really had been a horrendous summer, why in parts of the country it had even snowed in June and July. ‘Ah well,’ sighed the Countess as she stepped out of a puddle and into a carriage. ‘This is a good a day as any to visit the marbles, and at least it will be dry and warm.’
Once inside the museum they made their way to the gallery displaying the marbles. They walked the length of the frieze depicting the battles of the Lapiths’s and the Centaurs. Felicity consulted her programme. According to the legend, the Centaurs had been invited to the wedding feast of Pirithous. They became drunk and the Centaur Eurytion attempted to rape the bride. The Centaurs followed suit attempting the rape of the women and boys. Battle ensued as Theseus came to the Lapiths’s aid and cut of Eurytion’s ears and nose and the Centaurs were finally expelled. Felicity read on. The accounts were fascinating.
By far Felicity’s favourite piece though, was the Selene Horse and she thought of Artemis her own beloved hunter. The brochure informed her that Selene was the Greek goddess of the moon who drove her chariot across the night sky. The horses head was beautifully sculptured with it ears pinned back. Its veins stood out over the skin, it had flaring nostrils, and bulging eyes showing the stress of a horse that had rode invisibly through the sky at night and disappearing over the western horizon. The thought of Selene riding her steed through the stars in the night sky sounded so romantic and made Felicity sigh.
The marbles were not in such very good condition but never the less the party thought it a rainy afternoon well spent. As they came out of the Museum, the rain had temporarily stopped and the Countess voiced a desire to make a stopover at Regent Street to visit Madam Fournier. She wanted to order a new warm pelisse for the coming winter months in Richmondshire and attend for the final fitting of her new ball gown.
When they arrived at Regent Street Richard ordered the Coachman to stop the carriage. As the party stepped out onto the pavement, they bumped smack bang into Lord Alexander Sheraton. He stopped and greeted them with a smile and tipped his hat. ‘Good afternoon ladies, appalling weather again.’
The Countess agreed. ‘Yes indeed. We thought it a good day to visit the new exhibition at the British Museum. Have you been to see it yet?’
‘Ah the Elgin Marbles, they have caused quite a stir I believe. Alas no, I must remedy that lack in my education and make time to visit.’
Felicity had been standing quietly listening to the conversation when she noticed an altercation on the other side of the street. A thug was assaulting a middle aged Lady on the far sidewalk and trying to snatch her reticule, but the Lady was hanging on to it for dear life. ‘Oh my,’ Felicity gasped and before anyone knew what she was about, she ran across the street and began to whack the ruffian solidly about the head and shoulders with her umbrella. ‘Take that you brute,’ she cried with vehemence as she continued with her assault. Richard and Alex ran across the street to assist but they were seconds too late. With one full swing, the thug had knocked Felicity down and she fell unconscious onto the wet pavement. Alex was furious and seized hold of the scoundrel before he had a chance to run. He wrestled him to the ground and delivered him one swift right hook to the jaw.
By that time, a huge crowd had gathered. Alex looked up. ‘Someone call the constable,’ he commanded. A little voice broke in from the crowd. ‘I will sir,’ and a little urchin rang off in search of a constable, in the hope of receiving tuppence for his trouble.
Richard was joined by his mother and was bending down over Felicity trying to rouse her and the elderly Lady, still holding onto her reticule flitted about like a mother hen. ‘Oh deary, deary me,’ she clucked. ‘Is the young Miss alright?’ Felicity was slowly coming too. Blood was seeping from her temple and onto the pavement where she had hit the ground. The Countess was in all of a panic, ‘Flick, Flick, Flick, wake up, oh give me some space,’ she cried pushing the crowd out of the way. She turne
d to Richard. ‘Is she all right?’ Richard lifted her shoulders and held her up in his arms and she moaned. There was a small cut on her temple and there was blood everywhere but as he knew that head wounds tended to bleed profusely and look worse than they were, he remained calm. Alex with the thug under restraint looked over anxiously. ‘I have the scoundrel here, is she alright?’
Felicity opened her eyes and moaned. ‘Yes,’ Richard replied. ‘I am sure she is all right, she has sustained a slight blow to the head but the bleeding appears to have stopped. We must get her home.’ Alex waved over. ‘Go then, I will wait for the constable and see to this thatch gallows here.’ Do not worry I shall see that justice is done.’
Richard picked Felicity from off the ground and carried her to the carriage. He laid her gently on the seat and the Countess climbed up beside her. She regained consciousness but was decidedly white. Richard looked back and gave Alex a wave of thanks. He knew he could rely on him to do the right thing with the constable, but meanwhile Felicity was his priority. He waved to the concerned Coachman. She is all right Daniel but get us home as quickly as possible. At that, the carriage moved off leaving Alex in the road to deal with the aftermath.
Two hours later Felicity was sitting up. She refused to go to bed so they made her comfortable on the chaise long in the drawing room. The doctor had come and gone. Having stitched the small cut on her temple and covered it with basilicum ointment; he pronounced that there was no lasting damage to her health. He advised a little Laudanum for the nerves, which Felicity refused point blank to take. Some of her colour had returned but she still looked quite pale and although the Countess and Sarah had tried their best to remove the blood from her hair, vestiges of it remained caked to her scalp. ‘Oh dear,’ the countess sighed, ‘there is nothing much else to do but to wash it but that will have to wait until you are feeling better.’
Wilson the Butler entered and addressed Richard, ‘Your Lordship, Lord Alexander Sheraton the Marquis of Thorndale has arrived to enquire after Lady Felicity. ‘Send him in,’ Richard replied.
Alex entered the room and looked straight at Felicity. ‘I have come to enquire after the invalid,’ he smiled with concern. Felicity gave him a wan smile and maintained that she was quite well and that she would be as right as a trivet in the morning.
‘I am glad to hear it,’ Alex replied but there was a note of censure in his voice, ‘but why did you do such a madcap thing. Both Richard and myself were present and although you were obviously the first to witness the scene it was only seconds before it came our notice and if you had let us deal with it, things would have been far different.’
Felicity brought her hand to her head in obvious discomfort and gave Alex a resentful look. Richard rolled his eyes and replied for her. ‘Why does Flick do anything? She does not think that is why! She is constantly careering headlong into trouble without a thought for anyone else.’
‘That is not fair,’ Felicity retorted. ‘The man would have got away if we stopped to talk about it.’ She groaned suddenly putting her hand to her head as if her own defence had been too much effort.
Richard pulled his hand through his unruly blonde hair and looked at his sister in frustration. ‘Even if that were true, the contents of a reticule are not worth your life Felicity, but will you listen to me? No you will not, and look where it has got you.’ He turned to Alex in frustration, ‘Now do you see what I have to put up with.’
Felicity closed her eyes. Her head ached far too much to argue so she just scowled at Richard indignantly. The Countess looked reprovingly at her son. He was right of course but surely, he could see that Felicity was not in prime twig, and should have left his chastisement for another time, and certainly not scold her in front of a relative stranger.
Alex smiled sympathetically. It could not help that Richard and his sister were of the same age and that Richard had the added misfortune of being born second, but the Marquis rallied to his support. ‘Your brother is right of course, it would have been better if you had left well alone but at least you are all right.’ He turned to Richard. ‘I held the fellow at bay until the constable arrived, they have taken him away and he will be up before the magistrates tomorrow. Apparently he is a wanted felon; they have been after him for months so they were quite pleased with their catch. I have taken the liberty of giving them your direction as they may wish to take a statement. There were plenty of witnesses present so there is no doubt he will get what is coming to him. I slipped that young urchin a hind, I do not think he has seen a half a crown in the whole of his life but he was worth it. He skipped off hardly believing his luck.’
Richard could not thank him enough. ‘That was very generous of you. Perhaps I can invite you to remain for a while and have a drink with us?’
Alex accepted and spent a good hour with the family before departing. Felicity was quiet but that was only to be expected. The more he observed her however the more he felt that he had met her before under different circumstances. Some nagging feeling tormented his soul. He racked his brains for some kind of recollection but none came to him. Ah well he thought to himself, maybe she just reminded him of someone, but of whom he could not think.
Chapter 10
Alex has a Revelation
Alex left Upper Brook Street and returned home via a visit to White’s Club. It had been quite an eventful day and he decided to retire early. He could not believe how relieved he was that Felicity was relatively unharmed after today’s skirmish. It was not his business for she was not his responsibility but he found himself ardently wishing that she were. She was bent on independence, yet she was warm and endearing and had no thought for herself. Her husband would certainly need a good amount of understanding and be able to deal with the unexpected. She certainly was full of surprises and one could never quite know what she would do next. Alex smiled to himself, no wonder she did not marry, for not many men would be able to handle her, but he was such a man. Richard was certainly sorely tried. Life certainly would never be boring if Lady Felicity Ellingham was part of it.
Thorndale’s valet helped him undress and then he retired to his own quarters taking Alex’s boots with him for their daily polish. Alex was still thinking about Felicity when he climbed into bed and he found himself dreaming about her when he went to sleep. The events of the last two weeks were twisted into some form of strange narrative that was confused nonsense. He tossed and turned, she was galloping toward his carriage but this time she fell off her horse and was hurt and he was pulling his fingers through his hair in desperation, for the doctor was waiting at the meeting place for the combatants to arrive and he could not locate him. Then she was lying on the ground in Regent Street in a pool of blood and he walked up to her, helped her off the ground and asked her if she would like to dance. They waltzed all of the way down Regent Street and then suddenly she pulled away and left him, and he watched as she playfully skipped away out of his reach laughing. She was wearing a grey pelisse and heavily veiled. Alex woke up in a sweat, the realisation coming to him through the stupor of his waking moments. He pulled his fingers through his dark unkempt hair. Felicity was the woman in the grey pelisse!
It made sense, she was of the same height and her countenance and demeanour were the same. The Lady had obviously disguised her voice but now in his inner consciousness he recognised the underlying soft, sultry tones. It was Felicity, it had to be and all at once, he knew it. The mystery nagging in his sub-conscious revealed itself. It was half past five in the morning and he knew that he was going to get no more sleep. He padded over to the window and looked out. It was raining hard again and it looked like it was going to be another miserable day. He had to clear his head; rain or no rain he was going out. There was nothing like an early morning gallop through Hyde Park when no one else was about.
Arriving at Hyde Park, he turned his horse into rotten row and steadied him for the gallop. It was strictly against regulations but it was early. It was raining hard and the park was deserted. The op
portunity to gallop in London was rare, his stallion was gently bucking in anticipation, a gentle squeeze of the knees, and he was off. Alex felt the wind and the rain on his face and could almost feel the freedom of the open road. He asked himself, was he angry? No, he was not; rather he had the exhilarating feeling that came with discovery. One thing was certain, if Felicity proved well enough later in the day, he would confront her about it. There were still things he needed to know; how had Felicity come into possession of the Stansfield necklace? Did she know the identity of the young man who had broken into his home that night? He was beginning to know her, had she put herself in danger and confronted Adrian Entwhistle? Good Lord he hoped not, but as he came to realise, there was nothing that Lady Felicity Ellingham would not do for her friends. There was so much going on in his head and he needed answers.
As it was, Alex did not have to wait until the hour of the customary morning visits, which usually occurred in the afternoon, to see Felicity again. As he galloped along the south side toward Hyde Park Corner, another horse loomed up out of the grey mist. The rider obviously had the same intent as him for the horse was coming fast. He slowed as it approached and the other rider did the same. It was not until she was upon him than he realised who it was. She wore the same riding habit as she had done the morning she had rode out to Kenwood Pond on the heath. She looked flushed, rosy and very wet and the sliver grey feather in her hat drooped sadly, looking rather sorry. At first he could not believe his eyes and then much to his chagrin realised that perhaps he could believe it, after all it was not the first time he had known her to take an early morning ride on her own.
They stopped to greet each other. She looked at him intently, wondering if she was going to get a lecture on propriety. He seemed to know what she was thinking and just laughed. ‘Glad to see you in such high spirits, you looked decidedly out or sorts yesterday when I saw you.’
Lady Ellingham and the Theft of the Stansfield Necklace: A Regency Romance Page 9
